


my heart won't listen, it won't get better

by tolmeanie



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Consideration of Death, Friends to Lovers, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Love, Slight Internalised Homophobia, Soonhoonfest Round 1, hanahaki disease!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:13:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tolmeanie/pseuds/tolmeanie
Summary: Jihoon's one-sided love for Soonyoung, his long time best friend, causes the Hanahaki Disease and he is determined to not do anything about it even if it kills him. Literally. (hanahaki disease!au)





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's a hanahaki disease!au. hanahaki disease is a disease where people start throwing up flowers due to their one-sided love and individuals can only be healed if they operate (and get all their feelings removed with the flower) or get the other person to like them back. (it's just a whole angst-filled au.)
> 
> prompt #13: hopeless love - park jimin (15&)

Soonyoung's slender fingers hit replay, bar 20 to 30 plays again, again and again. Jihoon sits beside him, watching the cogs in his head turn, watching him mouth the sounds he hears, watching Soonyoung. Jihoon can hear nothing except for the slight creak of the chair when Soonyoung moves too vigorously, his ears deaf to the 10 bars that he has created and has been on repeat for at least an hour. Even the slight hums and 'ah-ha's are loud to Jihoon and he lets a little smile creep onto his features.

 

His eyes are threatening to shut on him, fatigue finally catching up with his battered body and mind since the work has been done. Jihoon does not want to sleep, not quite. Soonyoung is here, after all, listening to Jihoon's creation like he's listening to the best thing in his life, making up so many different variations of dance move for two bars of instrumental that Jihoon is sure Soonyoung will complain about later. ("How am I supposed to choose? I want to put the popping here but it also feels like it should be a freestyle. _Ugh._ " Jihoon will smile and tell him to deal with it. Soonyoung will pout and Jihoon maybe looks forward to that.) Jihoon does not want to sleep because Soonyoung is here and he wants to collect the funny dumb things that Soonyoung do so that being stuck in a clattered room for more than 48 hours becomes a lot less horrifying and perhaps, a lot more rewarding. Soonyoung is someone to look forward to after a long week of constant work, a sight for sore eyes.

 

Not that Jihoon will _ever_ let his thoughts be known.

 

Jihoon watches Soonyoung as he finally moves onto the next five bars, chin resting on his folded arms on the far corner of the table. His notepad is filled with smudgy black ink, scribbles of formation, feelings for that section of the song. Soonyoung writes everything that comes to mind without filters when it comes to choreography, Jihoon has learned over the years. Everything is note-worthy because it is his first reaction, fleeting inspirations that may never come again, Soonyoung once told Jihoon. Jihoon thought them the same.

 

Apparently, Jihoon had lost the fight with his eyelids because he wakes to Soonyoung's warm palm on the small of his back and his bright smile. "You should sleep in the bed," he says before stuffing his notebook into his rucksack bag. Jihoon digs his heels into his eye socket and yawns.

 

"I'll be going. Treating you to dinner some other time!" Soonyoung chimes as Jihoon waddles behind him out from his working room, across the living room and to the entryway of his apartment.

 

"You've got a meeting?" Jihoon manages to ask as Soonyoung is slipping his sneakers on. The taller gives a smile, patting his pockets to make sure his phone and keys are in there.

 

"Yep, for the next performance." Soonyoung says and he is straightening up, standing lean and taller than Jihoon. They used to be the same height before Soonyoung shot up in highschool, kind of a late bloomer, Junhui would joke. Jihoon yawns again, from his place leaning on the wall. Soonyoung stops, however, with his hands on the doorknob to and out of Jihoon's apartment. Jihoon watches Soonyoung, eyes threatening to close again since everything is quiet and he probably _really_ needs that sleep.

 

"Jihoon," Soonyoung starts without turning back and everything about that tone of voice wakes Jihoon up immediately. He straightens up and leans away from the wall, brows furrowed before humming.

 

"I got Sumin's number!" Soonyoung breaks out into a bright smile as he turns around but something crashes in Jihoon's chest.

 

"Don't use stupid pick up lines on her, Kwon Soonyoung," Jihoon breathes out, leaning against the wall, looking the best he can at being annoyed.

 

Soonyoung looks indignant when he squeaks, "they're _amazing_ , you just don't see their amazing-ness."

 

That's right, how could Jihoon have forgotten he is so hopelessly in love with Kwon Soonyoung; his best friend, his best friend who is madly in love with the cute female vocalist of a band that often overlaps in their schedule, his best friend who sees him as nothing more. How could he forget? How could he have gotten carried away because it's been so long since they had last saw each other? How could he have gotten carried away just because he was dead beat and seeing Soonyoung makes everything so much better? _Wake the fuck up, Lee Jihoon._  


 

Soonyoung thought of him as nothing more than a friend and Jihoon was going to keep it that way, even if it kills him.

 

& & &

 

The revelation was nothing special, nothing like the movies where the male fights to protect the female and then takes her hand in his bloodied ones and whisper, "I love you," and she would whisper back, tearfully, "me too." No, it was nothing like that. There was no fight, no blood, just the loud thud of Jihoon's heart sinking into the pits of his stomach, the panic building in his throat and the disgust in his head. It was disgust at himself for ever thinking of Soonyoung in a way that was more than friends when they were nothing but best buddies. The disgust was directly at himself solely because his thoughts were tainted, dripping desire into the bond they shared.

 

Jihoon often caught himself thinking of being so much more, and it was _disgusting_ but desirable. He wanted Soonyoung's attention, Soonyoung's heart, Soonyoung's everything while Soonyoung only had eyes for Sumin, the perfect petite with amazing vocals, soft floral smelling hair, bright bright smiles Sumin. Not short-tempered, sharp and snappy, always cooped up Jihoon. No. _Never._  


 

But it was alright. Jihoon had decided that nothing will have to change, it will be simple to ignore the palpitating of his heart, the breathlessness that hits him right in the lungs and the stabbing pain when he remembers Soonyoung will never be his. Jihoon was going to deal with everything by sheer will of force. Jihoon is a man great with doing things he _hated_ with a sheer will of force.

 

& & &

 

When Jihoon woke up a particular morning, his throat perhaps was dryer than the Sahara desert, lungs aching as if he had deprived them of oxygen while he was asleep. Jihoon sat up, uncomfortable in his own skin, the blanket too rough under his touch. There was something sticking between his tongue and the roof of his mouth when he attempted to swallow and Jihoon went to the bathroom to get it out. Was he getting a flu? He groaned, running a hand through his hair.

 

What he spat out was a lot more horrifying than a possible sore throat or flu.

 

Jihoon rubbed his eyes a thousand time to make sure he was seeing things right, _there's no way, there's no way, no way, no way, nowaynowaynoway-_  


 

It sat there, stark against his white sink bottom, as if laughing at him; a single yellow petal.

 

Jihoon was not even sure if his heart could plummet any deeper into his digestive system but apparently it could. It dropped all the way to the fucking ground and laid there. Without his heart, his body was not capable of functioning so he slumped to the tiled floor. His body failed but his brain was speeding at a million miles a minute. There was too many thoughts, too many regrets, too many realisation. Jihoon, for once, thought he might drown in his thoughts.

 

(He thought perhaps that will be good.)

 

& & &

 

The doctor looked at his files and grimaced before looking up to meet Jihoon's eyes. From the frown on his face, Jihoon supposed there was nothing more to be said. "Mr Lee, you are diagnosed with-" the doctor started, voice weary and eyes sorrowful. Jihoon does not want to look at that blatant sadness and silent confession so he looks down and finishes the sentence himself.

 

"The hanahaki disease." Jihoon all but whispered in the dead silent of the sterilised room. Jihoon had not bothered to look up but heard the rustling of the files being placed on the table and the creases forming in smooth doctor's coat as he interlocked his fingers. _Oh god._  


 

"Mr Lee, you are still in the early stages. If you choose to operate now, you will be able to recover almost immediately without much trouble." The doctor advised, prompting Jihoon to look up. _Operation._ An escape from this disease, from his fucking one-sided love. This was **not** supposed to happen, Jihoon was **never** supposed to _love_ Soonyoung and it was not just because Soonyoung is his best friend neither was it because they were both males but rather that Soonyoung deserves _so much more_. He deserves so much more than Jihoon and his measly feelings can ever give; lovely dates, a happy and warm family, tiny balls of energy running around and Soonyoung looking forward to them growing up so he'll finally be able to impart his dancing skills to his children.

 

Soonyoung deserves his lifelong dream and Jihoon is not his genie.

 

"Are there any other ways to cure this disease?" Jihoon asked, helpless. He knew the answer, he did but he wanted to hear someone else tell him, confirm it for him. Jihoon needed _someone_ to set everything in place. He cannot feel anything below his neck.

 

The doctor hesitated but answered calmly, "Another viable method of recovery that have been observed would be the other party _returning_ your feelings. The healing process is slow, since the disease does not immediately go away but it subsides slowly as the individual recuperates your affection and _eventually_ it'll be gone." Jihoon nodded dumbly to his words, nothing he has not read up on the morning he got his first petal. The room fell into silence.

 

"Mr Lee, it is highly advisable that-" and Jihoon stood up, fingers bunched into the hem of his sweater. With a thin smile, he bode the doctor goodbye and left the clinic after paying his consultation fees.

 

When Jihoon got home, he laid in bed, palms above his heart, the organ thumping softly through the thin sweater. He then ghosted his fingers along his sternum and the two hands separated, tracing imaginary roots of a yellow bud gripping onto his bronchi, spreading a web as it grew following the bronchioles to the alveoli and clutching tight at the air sacs. The breath he takes in their nutrient and the flower with bright yellow petals thriving in his respiratory system. Jihoon thought about the roots in the spaces of his lungs, the vice grip on the alveoli and he choked. He imagined the roots curling around in his lungs and he is breathless on his bed, curling in on himself and wishing that this was all a dream and that he has been asleep all this time. _All those all-nighters be damned._  


 

As the first few tears slipped out the confines of his eyelid by the corner, Jihoon drifted off to sleep, curled in on himself and _desperate_.

 

& & &

 

A single petal evolved to a mouth full of disgustingly bright petals, constant breathlessness and an aching pain in his chest. These days, morning trips to the toilet is a mess of quick shuffle of feet (occasional dashing if it's bad enough) and long heaving against the cold stone of the toilet seat (Jihoon does not want to clot up the fucking sink because that'll be difficult to explain and annoying to clear out) and a long cold shower to wake him up to reality again and again. The reality that indeed, the flower is still growing in him, feeding on his oxygen and love for someone who'll never love him back.

 

When he checked his phone, bringing the device up from the tabletop, he slid open the photo message from Soonyoung. The photo is a mess of colours from the strobe lights and Jihoon can feel the bass pulsating in his veins even in the quiet of his home but what really messes him up is the people in it. Apparently, Soonyoung's dance crew and the band that beautiful Sumin is from had gathered for a group photo, everyone spotting huge grins and bodies sticking close with a few hands gripping shot glasses. His eyes scanned the perimeter of the photo, refusing to lay eyes on dead center because even the mere thought of Soonyoung brings him this tightening in his lungs, roots driving deeper and deeper. What more can a picture do?

 

Jihoon hesitantly lay eyes on Soonyoung with that delightfully cute smile where his cheeks squishes up and eyes disappear, heart skipping a beat and bud blooming, tangling with the works of his respiratory system, robbing him of the simple mechanism of breathing. Just the sight of Soonyoung through a screen takes his literal breath away.

 

Then, he looked to the right where a head of brown is pressed close to Soonyoung and sports a perfect smile. Sumin stood impossibly close to Soonyoung (Jihoon supposed they had to squeeze to get in frame, nothing more, _nothing more_ ) with the almost the same bright smile the male always sported. If there was one thing Jihoon had to say about Sumin was that Soonyoung and her had the same vibe. They are both impossibly hyper (at least from what Jihoon deduces, watching her laugh without holding back and jumping around backstage, playing) and have a bright personality. Jihoon can see why Soonyoung is attracted to her, he really can. She's all petite, pretty and amazing vocals plus her personality? Any guy would have the hots for her. (Or at least, any guy besides Lee Jihoon.)

 

They look right in the photo. They look right _together_ , surrounded by their friends, (he supposed some were his own friends as well) surrounded by smiling faces, tipsy after a few drinks after their performances. Then comes a pang in his heart and Jihoon doubled over, hand clutched tight at his heart, eyes blinking rapidly to clear his vision. Sensation rushed back to him and he felt as if he had been holding his breath, suddenly sucking and dragging huge mouthfuls of air into his lungs because just his nose was not enough to keep him alive.

 

Has he been holding his breath, afraid to see the two of them looking picture perfect despite the horrible quality of the picture? Afraid to see Soonyoung look so effortlessly happy without him? Afraid to see Soonyoung's smile with Sumin so close to him?

 

Or was it just another bud blooming as reality crashes down on Jihoon yet again?

 

When he regained his breathing, the screen had gone dark. Unlocking his phone, Jihoon evaded the photo and tapped around to check other messages and emails. He pushed the image away from mind because if he dwelt on it, he _surely_ would not have been able to function.

 

& & &

 

When Jihoon composed, it mainly depended on his mood and his feelings so it came as no surprise when he reviewed his music snippets wide awake a Saturday, they were all sob pieces filled with gloomy tunes, long draggy cello and baritone piano solos left and right. He barely remembered playing or recording the tunes because he was always drunk off lack of sleep when he composed but the aching in his chest told him that _yes, this is a product of his love, his certain death._  


 

He stored those files into a newly created folder which he named 'the disease' and tucked it under a bigger folder fondly named 'ungodly hours' creation'. (Soonyoung named it back in highschool when he found out Jihoon just felt his music files pile into a long list. It was also the only time he got to call Jihoon out on being messy.)

 

& & &

 

A complete stalk of flower makes Jihoon wrap his own palms around his neck, trying to soothe the raw skin and muscles inside physically. It had happened while he was composing. There was an itch at the base of his throat where his collarbones meet but Jihoon had not bothered with it, instead he just drowned the feeling with copious amounts of coke. Which on hindsight, watching the mess on his carpeted workroom where a single stalk laid in, was a pretty bad idea.

 

He made it to the toilet to empty the rest of the scattered yellow petals, falling into a familiar formation with his knuckles turning as white as the stone of his toilet seat, hunched over and heaving. The petals and buds are easily cleaned with the flush of a toilet but the mess in his workroom is more annoying.

 

Jihoon washed the flower clean and laid it on his worktable. Why he bothered to keep it was beyond Jihoon himself as he sat watching the flower after setting an alarm to ring up his renovator to see where he could get the exact same carpet. The flower was something that was supposed to be _disgusting_ to Jihoon, the reason why he was slowly wilting away while this flower sucked everything of his away; his love, his breath and his heart. Jihoon had became its weed and time was coming for the weed to be plucked.

 

(Apparently the flower residing and tearing his lungs apart is a yellow tulip and Jihoon being slightly curious of its flower language, laughed when he found out the meaning of the flower his one-sided love have been breeding. What a fucking joke.)

 

& & &

 

"Mr Lee, you have progressed onto the intermediate stages of the disease. It is highly advisable for you to undergo the surgery to remove the flower before it is too late." The doctor rushes out, flipping through his file roughly, eyes working itself on the printed materials, processing the severity of Jihoon's disease.

 

"I need some painkillers and sleeping pills. I heard that you can give them to patients with this disease to function?" Jihoon asked, paying the doctor no mind. He does not allow the doctor to argue and instead listed out a prepared list of reasons why he needs the fucking pills.

 

Jihoon leaves the clinic with his medicine and a bitter laugh. He knows what is happening, he knows that he is dying, slowly but surely. Jihoon knows when he sees blood mixed in the toilet and the occasional drops lingering on his lips. He can taste the coppery taste and he _knows_. But what was he to do?

 

Jihoon, no matter how hard the roots squeeze his lungs, how rough the petals and stalks scratch his oesophagus, how painful his chest throbs in the middle of the night for oxygen, he simply cannot give up on Soonyoung. He is dying but he is still loving. He has no right to love so deeply but instead, with every message Soonyoung drops him with an embarrassing amount of emojis, every image update of the crew and him in their practice room and every late night phone calls because "Jihoon! Sumin called me!!", Jihoon falls a little more in love.

 

He tells himself _no, this is the last time, tomorrow I'll call the clinic and book an operation and then everything will be gone for good._  


 

He tells himself, _this is the last phone call I'm going to hang up breathless and try not to choke on the petals falling pass my lips._  


 

He tells himself, _today will be the last day I love Kwon Soonyoung._  


 

Jihoon can tell himself _anything_ and it'll all be a **huge fucking lie**.

 

Lee Jihoon is a fucking liar and he supposed he would know.

 

He has tried, _oh you best believe he has_ but to absolutely no avail.

 

Jihoon made a list of the things he hates about Kwon Soonyoung, including and not limited to his absolutely terrible sense of humor, his too-corse-and-frizzly hair, his terrible sense of fashion and so many more things that Jihoon has collected from their years together. There's so many things Jihoon listed but when he went back to read them through, he can only break out in tears because Soonyoung's jokes are what kept him going during finals, Soonyoung was why Jihoon started dying his hair ridiculous colours too, Soonyoung's closet has the fluffiest and warmest clothes and eventually, everything on the list were things Jihoon loves about Soonyoung.

 

"Fuck me, god damn it. _What the fuck_ , Lee Jihoon, _what have you done_?" He all but sobbed because what has he done?

 

But for everything, there is a breaking point and Jihoon's small body will never be able to hold the product of his despair, his pain, his love, taking root in every corner of his lungs, stretching their greedy fingers towards his hearts, wrenching itself into the organ. First, they robbed him of hope. Then, they robbed him of breath.

_Now, they rob him of life._

 

& & &

 

When Junhui dropped by at the ass-crack of dawn, Jihoon was unprepared. _Oh, so severely so._  


 

Slowly, Jihoon had fallen behind the dance crew's chats and he had slowly managed to distant himself from his friends and most importantly, Soonyoung by using composing work as an excuse. It was enough to cover him for the past month or so because Lee Jihoon devoting himself to his work was not that rare of an occurrence for people to be worried or for people to be sent, looking for him. He has been doing good so far; keeping minimal contact and dodging outings where people could easily notice the bags beneath his eyes, the coarse voice because his oesophagus is simply rubbed raw from the inside out, the death in his eyes because Jihoon is not sure why he does this to himself.

 

He tells himself every night as he battles the ache in his chest, brain registering the never-numbing pain instead of his exhaustion, keeping him awake with not the least bit of inspiration nor motivation to work, Jihoon tells himself every night that tomorrow, _tomorrow for sure_ , he'll go to the clinic and get the operation done.

 

Jihoon tells himself, _tomorrow,_ he will let everything go.

 

Jihoon tells himself, _the day after tomorrow_ , his chest will no longer ache for the love he will never have, his heart will no longer thump at every mention of Soonyoung's name, his eyes will no longer chase frizzly blond in the crowds. Jihoon tells himself that when he wakes, he will be **over** Soonyoung and this stupid one-sided love.

 

When he wakes up to Soonyoung's "goody morningy jihoonie!! (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ", Jihoon tells himself like he does every night;  _tomorrow._  


 

His doorbell is rang twice in succession, followed by knocks in two groups of threes.

 

Jihoon peeks through the peephole and considers just letting Junhui leave, pretending he is asleep and tomorrow, he'll swipe right to reply to the messages popping up on his screen at that instant, telling Junhui he was asleep and telling him to not drop by since he is busy with composing.

 

"I know you're inside, open up before I get the landlady to bust your door down like last time. Apparently she has not seen you leave your house for the entirety of the week and she is ready to come in there and make sure you're alive." Junhui chimes, fiddling with his phone. Jihoon's screen gets filled with notification from Junhui. The messages are the alphabets and when Junhui has sent 'Z', Jihoon opens the door.

 

"I trusted that you're alive, Jihoon. Thank gods I trusted right." Junhui smiles as he crosses the threshold of Jihoon's entryway and slips off his sneakers. Jihoon clicks the door shut and remembers how to interact so that he would not bring any suspicion on himself.

 

"Didn't I say no visitors." Junhui spins around at that but Jihoon shuffles into the kitchen, out of sight and poured himself a glass of water. Junhui plopped down on his couch before humming a positive.

 

"Yeah, yeah we know but Soonyoung was worried. He said you were like - _what was the word he used, ah_ \- evading him so he was worried about you. I actually came with medicine that Soonyoung bought because yeah, you're Lee Jihoon, who - a _s I quote 'never wants to burden anyone'_ \- he thought you were evading him because you're sick and did not want him to worry." Junhui blabbers and Jihoon goes stiff like the roots had wound itself on his spine and could now control his every movement. His breath catches at the idea that Soonyoung was worried for him, stalks of yellow tulip tangling with his bronchioles, clenching.

 

"I'm just here to make sure you're alive and well. I'll go soon if you need to do work." Junhui pops his head in at the entry to the kitchen, grin falling off when he sees Jihoon clutching at the filled glass, breathing too quick for someone doing absolutely nothing. Junhui's brows draw up together as he steps closer slowly like how one approaches a frightened little creature.

 

"Jihoon, you're alright, _right_?"

 

Jihoon wants to laugh, throw his head back and laugh so hard he cannot breath, laugh until he cannot stand up and tell Junhui, _hey you know what, actually I'm dying. Amazing right?_ And he'll laugh and laugh and laugh until everything goes away and then Jihoon will wake up at his desk, bleary eyed and perfectly fine. This will all be a dream.

 

Scratch that.

 

This will all be a _fucking nightmare_ and Jihoon will wake up and everything will be alright.

 

Except, no, this is not a nightmare and there is _no escaping_.

 

Suddenly, Jihoon goes all lax and the glass slips from his no longer existing grip and falls. The water spills as the glass tips and Junhui is dashing over with all his quick reflexes to pull Jihoon away from the glass shards and spill all over the kitchen floor. "What the fuck Jihoon? Are you alright?" Junhui asks but Jihoon cannot respond.

 

There is a familiar sensation of pressure building at the base of his throat where his trachea branches into bronchi and Jihoon can already see the mess of yellow petals, can already feel the scrapes against his gullet as the yellow tulip struggles to make itself seen, can hear Junhui cursing in Chinese as he panics. He pushes Junhui away but he's too weak to do much and Junhui has always been lean but strong, muscles built from his martial arts training. Junhui has a strong grip on his arms, just a little below his shoulders but Jihoon tries, nonetheless, to push the older away.

 

" _What the fuck Jihoon_?" Junhui questions but Jihoon has no time. He can feel something tickling at the back of his mouth and suddenly, there is a surge of power in Jihoon. He gets out from Junhui's grip and dashes for the bathroom, heart racing painfully. He empties the petals and stalk into the toilet, yellow laughing at his misery and this terrible situation. Jihoon has his eyes shut tight when Junhui comes running from the kitchen where Jihoon left him, confused and worried.

 

With the sight of Jihoon vomiting flowers into the toilet, he don't suppose Junhui feels any less confused and worried. There was a brief quiet string of Chinese swear words Jihoon kind of remember Junhui teaching him about a long time ago over some beer after one of their dance performances. Then, there is a warm palm rubbing circles into Jihoon's back and the whisper of his name every once in a while.

 

It takes a while to get all the petals and stalks out but Junhui remains with Jihoon, a palm rubbing soothing circles and voice low and gentle. When Jihoon gets everything out, he slumps to the tiled floor, curling in on himself, eyes still shut tight because he does not want to see how Junhui will react, does not think he is prepared to face the truth of his disease.

 

When it was just his own secret to keep, Jihoon could hold off the truth and he could fool himself but now that there was someone in on his play pretend, his lie, there was no evading the truth. Jihoon thought he had come to terms with his disease and the fact that his love for Soonyoung was literally going to be the death of him, he thought he was prepared to face death so heroically without sacrificing his precious though damned love.

 

Jihoon is, after all, a man of many thoughts.

 

Junhui flushed the toilet and sat beside the body on the floor, watching the patient. They stay silent for a long time before Junhui asks if Jihoon is still awake. Jihoon uncurls his fists in a silent response.

 

"Who?"

 

"Soonyoung," Jihoon all but croaks and Junhui stands to go get Jihoon some water. When he goes back to Jihoon, the smaller male just leads him to his bedroom and collapses on the bed. Junhui insists he drinks some water and he sits up to do so.

 

"Jihoon, can you tell me about it?" Junhui asks and Jihoon unravels. Thoughts and memories spill from his lips in a hoarse voice that brings Junhui's brows to a frown and at the end of it, Jihoon manages a smile and smooths out Junhui's frown with slim fingers. Silence reigns as Jihoon rolls in bed, chest simultaneously lighter and heavier at the fact that Junhui knows.

 

"What are you going to do?" Junhui's voice is but a whisper and Jihoon shrugs because he really does not know.

 

"Whatever happens, happens. I don't have any plans to tell Soonyoung about it so _please_ don't tell Soonyoung too." Jihoon says, light but pleading nonetheless. Before he can hear Junhui's reply, sleep claims him. Jihoon does not remember sleeping so soundly and peacefully ever since the worries and pain plagued him with the discovery of his disease.

 

& & &

 

When Jihoon wakes up, it is very apparent he is not in his room and that he is actually in a hospital room. Then, _panic_ sets in.

 

Had Junhui sent him to be operated on? Is he even allowed to do that? Did he lie and say he was Jihoon's guardian or something? Did Junhui get it removed? Is, is he no longer going to have even the tiniest bit of feelings for Soonyoung now?

 

Jihoon sits up, alarmed and before he rips off the various needles and tubes connecting him to the monotonous machines, a head of blond bursts through the door and Jihoon's heart almost stops.

 

Kwon Soonyoung stands at the door, eyes wide perhaps with panic too, hair messy in a way Jihoon loves and huffing like he ran all the fucking way to come see this disgrace of a friend. Jihoon's hand comes up to palm at his heart to physically smooth out the erratic beatings. Soonyoung does not miss the action and asks, "Do you need the doctor Jihoon? Are you in pain?" Jihoon shakes his head to indicate a negative because he is not sure how useful his voice is and how his voice sounds in general. At least Jihoon was sure he had yet to undergo the operation with the way his body is reacting to Soonyoung.

 

Soonyoung stands at the door even after he has closed the door, fingers tangling in the hem of his sweater, looking like he wants to both run out of the room and run towards Jihoon. Jihoon gives him the best smile he can muster and croaks for him to "come over."

 

If Soonyoung was there, Jihoon was sure Junhui had sent him and Jihoon was also sure that because he ended up in the hospital and with Soonyoung's lack of humor and laughter, Soonyoung knows about Jihoon's yellow tulip. That is almost enough to make Jihoon want to throw up somehow but apparently the flower is sedated with Soonyoung so close and worrying, a kind of affection that it much appreciates instead of Jihoon's alveoli.

 

They sit in silence accompanied by the constant beeping of the machines hooked up to Jihoon, neither knows what to say and Jihoon kind of want to bundle up and disappear. "You don't have to do anything if you're wondering." Jihoon breaks the silence, giving Soonyoung a smile as he does so. It would do well to clear up the air as soon as possible, send Soonyoung on his way back to Sumin and get out of the hospital as soon as the procedures allow.

 

His words hang in the air and Soonyoung's mouth opens and close for a few times, not sure what to say in response to Jihoon. "What do you mean?" Soonyoung asks, brows furrowed and something clenches in Jihoon and he wants to smooth the frown out but technically, Jihoon is trying to keep his feelings in check so instead he curls his fingers into fists.

 

"You don't have to do anything, just go and I'll deal with this myself. There's nothing to worry about, Soon." Jihoon tries with Soonyoung's nickname to hopefully convey just how much he wants Soonyoung out of there, away from his sight so the fluttering in his heart can be gone. It is preferable to the pain but Jihoon does not want things to get worse because Soonyoung is being nice to him for just this moment. When he leaves the room and blond hair disappears out of sight, Jihoon is not so sure he can handle the pains that will ensue so he will stop everything before it rolls down hill and off the cliff where Jihoon cannot chase, plunging into chaos.

 

Jihoon, in spite of the disease, just wants Soonyoung gone because while he may be the poison to the tulip in his lungs, Soonyoung is also the nutrient the flower thrives off of when Jihoon reminds himself that _they'll never be together_.

 

"How can I - Okay no, Jihoon, _what the fuck_. Why are you driving me away, you  _obviously_ **need** my help."

 

"There's nothing you can do, Soonyoung. Just go." Jihoon's tired and everything hurts when Soonyoung's hissing like that.

 

"Like there's anything you can do! Junhui said you _stopped breathing_ suddenly and when he rushed you here, you were like throwing up tons of petals and the doctor said that it's getting really bad. Do you honestly think you can do this by yourself?" Soonyoung's voice is crescendoing and it rings in Jihoon's ears but he does not cover them. He has to see this to the end and make sure Soonyoung gets everything he deserves.

 

"There's nothing you can do. I won't let you do anything so just get the fuck out of here, Soon. I'll deal with this myself." Jihoon repeated.

 

"You can't tell me who to love, Jihoon."

 

"I don't need your fucking love. Just pretend nothing ever happened and go, I won't die." _What a bunch of lies._  


 

"Don't be stupid Jihoon you know as well as I do what this is and I am the _only one_ who can help you."

 

"It's because I know as well as you do that I'm doing this! Do you think torturing myself is fucking amusing? I'm doing this all for you, you idiot! What will it ever come to with me? Huh?" Jihoon yelled back, voice cracking occasionally at the sudden strain to project his voice so loudly. Before Soonyoung can get anything in, Jihoon continued.

 

"You remember your fucking dreams and that stupid bucket list? You said you wanted lovely dates with a cute girl who is not afraid to be herself, who can stand your disgusting sweaty ass when you go home for cuddles after practice, who will always smile for you. You said you wanted to go camping for your fucking honeymoon and you want to twirl her around under the stars where it's just the two of you. You said you wanted kids; as many as both of you can manage to have and then teach them how to dance. You said you were going to pass down that dirty, old and spoiled first pair of converse that you used to dance in as your family heirloom and finally, _fucking finally,_ you are starting it with this girl that you have been pining on for like a good year and you're telling me that you want to _help me_?" Jihoon shoots without stumbling over any words, arms gesturing as he spits out the things that have prevented him from approaching Soonyoung, from letting his feelings be known, from confessing to this one person he has fell for oh so hopelessly.

 

Soonyoung looks stunned but Jihoon goes on; it's too difficult to stop and if he stops now, Jihoon was not sure when he'll have the courage or adrenaline to scream his reasons at Soonyoung again.

 

"How are you going to fucking help me when it requires you to love me back? Love me until even the thought of me makes you breathless and just hearing my voice keeps you up all night, heart racing, replaying everything I said? Love me until everything hurts so badly when you cannot see me and everything you want to do is with me by your side? How can you look me in the eye and give me hope that you can save me when I am everything you've never wanted? I like work more than human interactions, I hate the outdoors and I don't have a fucking vagina! Fuck, what are you ever going to do with me? Yeah, you think you're saving me but in the end, even with you sitting so close and shouting at me, I get breathless and I can't think straight and the flower is still winding around and killing me. So _what the fuck Soonyoung_?" Jihoon bellowed back.

_There he said it._

 

Jihoon never thought he was good enough, not for Soonyoung or anyone who liked him. Sure, this was his first huge crush but throughout his life, Jihoon also had his fair share of admirers and tiny crushes though everything eventually falls through when he displayed no intention of returning their affections or realise that his own feelings were just fleeting infatuation. To be honest, Jihoon had thought this way about his one-sided crush on Soonyoung so he kept quiet, figuring that everything will all fade away soon enough and then he'll move on with a short story he could laugh at in the future.

 

Except the crush grew with each passing day and before he knew it, it had developed into a one-sided love strong enough to cause the Hanahaki Disease. Jihoon had thought everything would go away if he left it alone, if he kept his distance and stopped hoping for nothing. Jihoon believed that his emotions for Soonyoung would eventually fall back to normal friends and then, silently he would move on. But then again, Jihoon thought many things.

 

Jihoon looked Soonyoung in the eyes with a crooked smile because surely now, Soonyoung knew how utterly disgusting Jihoon was and now, he would leave for good, their friendship be damned. He should be happy that Soonyoung was leaving but instead the mere thought of Soonyoung turning his back on Jihoon summoned tears that he could barely hold in, the pain too intense, too deep. He was wrecked with sobs at the revelation that have finally been uttered because with his disease, when Jihoon vocalised these truths, it became real, something that Jihoon cannot push away. It became something exposed and out in the open for scrutiny and judgment.

 

Soonyoung takes long moments to take in all of Jihoon's outburst, the room kept silence save for Jihoon's sob and the beeping still in the background. After a long while where Jihoon's sobs have stopped and instead he held a palm over his heart, heaving and huffing to catch his breath. "Jihoon," Soonyoung called but the younger did not respond. Soonyoung continued regardless.

 

"Jihoon, we were young. I was young and that was the kind of regular things that a highschool student hoped for when they watch sappy movies like I marathon them. I never thought about romantic things done with anyone beside a girl but I am not afraid to try it with you. I don't want to lose you and I'm not sure if I love you like you do me but I want to try, Jihoon. Just give me a chance to try and love you, alright? I cannot just watch you wilt away.  _Jihoon_." Jihoon can tell Soonyoung is having difficulty with his words; he was never one with eloquent vocabulary but rather, he proved everything through his heartfelt actions, something Jihoon admires and loves. He sighs and looks up to see Soonyoung with red rimmed eyes himself.

 

"Soonyoung, it's not enough to _try_. It's not enough when all I think about is how hopeless this is and how today will be the last day I love you before I put everything away and get the operation done to stop the pain. Nothing is getting better and you're killing me with all this hope. When you leave, everything will be too hard and too difficult to overcome so don't start. Just go now, _please_." Jihoon pleads and he hopes Soonyoung hears the desperation. He cannot begin to imagine how it would feel like for the roots and stems to coil around in him, yearning for more of Soonyoung that will never come and instead, the yellow tulip will swallow his heart whole to devour the last bits of his affections to grow and rip Jihoon apart from the inside out.

 

"Then, I'll love you with all my heart." He declared like it was as simple as that.

 

" _Don't_ , Soonyoung _don't do this_. I don't want your forced love." Jihoon wondered if a fake love would tide him over the disease like a real love can or if fake affection becomes the highway to his death, a catalyst in this experiment gone wrong. 

 

"Who said anything was forced? I want you by my side and I want to love you not just to save you from this horrible disease. We can watch those terrible horror films that you put on just to curse the directors and their terrible camera angles, we can stay at home - heck, even in the studio - and just do nothing but listen to music and if you ever come around to thinking that babies are no longer the spawn of Satan, we can adopt or just get a pet and I can be the first man to teach it how to dance a complete routine." Soonyoung smiles and Jihoon wants to think that things are that simple and beautiful. He wants to live a future like that with Soonyoung. He wants, he wants, _he wants_. 

 

"Sure I may not have been crushing on you for years passionately but I have actually thought of you as something more, some nights, sometimes. I'll just have to revive those young feelings now that I know you love me so. I don't know if everything will work out and I know that trying is not enough but Jihoon, let's try and you can teach me about how you loved me and then we can get even." He says as he strides closer, standing confident despite his own words and Jihoon wants to believe Soonyoung when he said that he used to have fleeting emotions for Jihoon and that _maybe_ , everything will work out. 

 

Maybe everything would _not_ work out, maybe he will still die but perhaps spending his last few days with Soonyoung so selflessly devoted to Jihoon would not be bad. Dying after Soonyoung spent time with him sounded as good as anything Jihoon could ask for, honestly, and there was a fleeting thought of how _perhaps_ , everything would work out. He supposed he would never know unless he tried and even if he died, he promised silently to not haunt Soonyoung and instead bring him together with some Princess to make sure he would be loved so much more than Jihoon could ever offer. 

 

So for now, with dangerously renewed hope, Jihoon reaches out to intertwine his fingers with Soonyoung's. "Was that a fucking confession? Shit, it was sappy. I knew I should have burned your movie collection when I had the chance to." Jihoon comments, catching Soonyoung's eyes and watching the tide of emotions washing over Soonyoung at his comment. 

 

"I guess you'll just have to live with it, Jihoonie!" Soonyoung chimes and for a while, Jihoon thinks that everything will be alright and that Soonyoung will come through like he always does, with his efforts and actions. For a while, Jihoon **hopes** despite knowing that the fall would be harsher. For a while, Jihoon supposed the subtle lightness he feels in his chest is everything slowly becoming alright. 

 

& & &

 

Soonyoung rounds the block and runs down the street, dodging the other pedestrians as he makes his way to the antique record store Wonwoo found while he was driving the drunkards home one afternoon. He complained for the entire drive about how _only dumbs drink till black out drunk in the afternoon_ and Soonyoung sat reasoning that the group that went for a blind date the previous night was all turned down and they resorted to drink to drunk their sadness. While Wonwoo drove back after dropping off Soonyoung, he found the hole in the wall antique shop, tucked away and very plain. 

 

When Soonyoung visited to pick up Wonwoo, he stumbled on something Jihoon was sure to like and had decided to go again today to pick it up as a gift for the younger. As he stumbled into the store though, he did not except Jihoon to already be paying for that limited edition record. He huffed as he stopped next to Jihoon, watching the elderly wrap up the precious record for them to bring home. 

 

"Eh, Wonwoo told you about this place too?" Soonyoung pouts as they made their way home, record in one hand, Jihoon's in the other. 

 

"I think I was the first he told. We are the only members in antique appreciation club anyways. Don't say I didn't invite you because I did." Jihoon chuckles, matching their steps. 

 

"I was half-asleep! I didn't even hear what you said, I thought you asked if I wanted more alcohol!" 

 

"That was the point, Soonyoung." 

 

"What do you mean?" 

 

"Ah, we ran out of food for Hoshi. I fed him the last bits before leaving the house."

 

"We can pick it up with the groceries. Do you want to get lunch before going home, Jihoonie?" 

 

"If you pay." 

 

"When do I not?" 

 

"Did you say something?" Jihoon beamed, extraordinarily huge and not exactly friendly. Soonyoung shook his head, brown hair flying around as he does, Jihoon nods, brown hair bouncing. 

 

When they stand at the traffic light, Soonyoung would tilt down to capture Jihoon's lips in his own. When the light goes green, they would pull apart smiling. When the countdown begins, they would run across, laughing and Jihoon would think _this is just right_. When they see yellow tulips at the florist's, Soonyoung would grip him a little tighter and Jihoon would squeeze back, hard enough that Soonyoung lets out a yelp and complains but he would slip his hand right into Jihoon's again, again and _again_. 

**Author's Note:**

> funfacts:  
> 1\. Yellow tulips have a flower language meaning 'hopeless love'.  
> 2\. Hoshi is a dog they got together.  
> 3\. During planning and drafting, Jihoon didn't make it and Soonyoung lived happily with Sumin while Junhui mourned for life.
> 
> but yep, i have always wanted to try my hand at hanahaki disease!au and finally had the chance to through this fest and i'm pretty happy with how it turned out. i am not one who writes angst so this was a pretty new and nice experience. i hope you enjoyed reading it so much as i enjoyed writing it. thank you!


End file.
